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CHAPTER FOUR

Skylar

Butch doesn’t look impressed.

Granted, he never does, but he looks about ready to call this entire interview off. But it’s our last one of the day, and even though I want to take a quick nap before my shift officially starts, we’ve made this guy wait long enough.

He kinda looks a lot like Elton, if Elton was bulkier and more… fratty . Truthfully, the guy seems clueless, but he’s kind of cute, in a himbo sort of way.

“So, Max, tell us about yourself,” I say.

Max smiles brightly, nodding so fast, it looks like his head is about to fall off. I can tell he’s nervous, his green eyes doing this weird twitchy thing, and his voice comes out a bit high pitched when he speaks. “So, I’ve kind of bounced around a bit. I went to school in Louisiana?—”

Butch snorts. “That explains the accent.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s thick.” Max laughs, scratching the back of his pinkened neck. “But I left my senior year of college and moved to Denver, where I finished up school.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And what did you major in?”

“Um…” Okay, that’s a weird hesitation. “Sports Administration.”

Butch narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t sound like you’re sure.”

“No, yeah, I’m totally sure,” Max rushes out, waving his hands so wildly, he spills a glass of water. “Oh, shit! Shit, I just cursed. Fuck, I did it again! Oh, jeez. This is not going well.”

Even though he’s making an utter idiot out of himself, I laugh. “You can relax. I’m, like, the least intimidating person in the world, and Butch…” I lean in close, dropping my voice to a stage whisper. “He’s just a big softie.”

“I heard that,” Butch snaps.

“You were supposed to,” I sing-song, giving him a nudge with my elbow as I turn back to Max. “Just…I don’t know? Tell us about yourself. Give us a fun fact.”

“I can do that.” He lets out a deep breath as he thinks. When it comes to him, his eyes widen, and he snaps his fingers. “Oh! You know Juan Diego Fernandez and Dalton Cross?”

“Who?”

“Yes.”

I give Butch a look at his immediate and almost enthusiastic answer. “Who are they?”

“Only two of the most famous soccer players in the world,” Butch answers, eyes uncharacteristically wide. “Why do you bring them up?”

“My best friend is dating them,” he says proudly. “Well, Bryson wouldn’t say dating. They’re, like, ridiculously in love. All three of them. Like, they each love the other two and everyone loves everybody equally.”

“Aw,” I coo, planting my hands over my cheeks. “That’s so cute. Are you dating anyone?”

“Well, I sucked a dick in college and really liked it. Bryson says it makes me bi-curious, but I don’t know. Haven’t really experimented to find out.” Then his eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “You didn’t need to know that.”

Grinning, I tap my finger against my chin. “Can you give us a second, Max?”

“Oh, of course, little dude,” he says, then awkwardly stands, like his body is too big and bulky to be anything remotely resembling graceful. “I’ll just be—uh—over there.”

I don’t know if he realizes he’s just pointed at the ceiling.

Once he’s out of earshot, I turn to Butch, giving him my best pout. “I want one.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, shaking his head. “The kid is dumb as shit.”

I shake my head stubbornly. “No. I think he’s just nervous. He seems really genuine and sweet.”

“Skylar…”

But I continue pouting despite his warning. We’ve been looking for a new bartender for months , and sure, part of it is my fault that the temp workers never pan out. I know I’m being picky, but this person is going to be a part of our family, and they need to click. Max, while…interesting, seems like he’d be a good fit. God knows, we already have three brooding assholes; we don’t have to add another.

Butch calls out to Max. “Kid! Do you know how to bartend?”

“Nope!”

“Nope,” Butch repeats under his breath, shaking his head. “You’re not thinking him through. He can be your bestie and not actually work here.”

I’m relentless as I shake my head again. “No, Butch. I’m putting my foot down.”

“Oh, you’re putting your foot down?” he mocks, raising both eyebrows comically. “Well, I didn’t know you were in charge.”

“Davis put me in charge of this because he trusts my judgment.” I cross my arms over my chest in an attempt to look intimidating. “Now it’s your turn to trust me.”

“Hey, kid!” Butch calls out to Max again. “Know how to make a French 75?”

“A what?”

“Skylar,” Butch deadpans. “Seriously?”

“Max!” I yell, waving my fingers at him. “You’re hired, you beautiful himbo!”

Max cocks his head to the side, pointing at himself as he mouths himbo. After a second, he recovers and gives me a wide smile. “Awesome, little dude! When do I start?”

“How does right now work?” I’m already pushing Butch out the corner booth. “Rhys and Everest are on a date night, so it’s just going to be you and me. But don’t worry, we don’t get too crowded on Tuesdays.”

“Tonight?” He looks down at himself, surveying his elegant looking suit. “Aren’t I a bit overdressed?”

“He has to fill out paperwork and shit, Skylar,” Butch says in a groan and rolls his eyes. Then he’s jutting his chin at the stairs. “You start tomorrow. Go see the boss and tell him you’re hired. When he asks, say I sent you.”

“Okay!” Max shouts, rushing toward the stairs. He stops abruptly, however, and turns. “Um, what’s this dude’s name?”

“Davis,” Butch mutters, shaking his head. “And don’t call him dude .”

“Alright, bro! Sounds good!”

As Max races up the stairs, he fumbles on the top step, and Butch gives me a withering glare. “Davis is going to eat him alive.”

With a shrug, I hop out of the booth, pushing Butch toward the front of the club. “You go do your work and let me worry about Bambi.”

“Bambi’s right,” he mutters, heading to the front door to get everything set up.

I make my way behind the bar, ready to start my start-of-shift chores, when the back door swings open. Immediately, my heart races as Cassius walks in. He stayed at the boxing gym late last night, so I didn’t see him before I went to bed. Call me insanely codependent, but I need to know every breath he takes.

I leave the back of the bar and rush to him. Barreling into his body, I knock the wind out of him, and we both tumble into the side of the stage. His eyes widen, then soften when he notices it’s me. Immediately, I climb my way up his ridiculously tall body.

“Skylar,” he snaps, but he’s chuckling under his fake annoyance. “What are you doing?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and tighten my legs around his waist. “I missed you. You were out late last night.”

He scoffs lightly but pats the back of my head. Repositioning us so he’s leaning against the stage, he places his hands under my ass to hold me steady. “Sorry about that. Just was hanging out with the guys at the gym.”

I nod, knowing that already, but I still pout. “Do you think we could ever hang out all together?”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Is someone feeling a bit neglected?”

Snorting, I turn my head to the side, playing his question off. “No.”

“Mmm, I think someone is lying,” he teases, kneading my ass soothingly. “What did you want last night, sunshine?”

I try to stay aloof, but fuck me, it’s hard. Burying my face against his chest, I sigh. “Cuddles.” I rest my chin on his chest and frown when I take a closer look at his eye. “Is that a bruise?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek and nods. “Yeah, one of the guys got a good one in.”

I trap my bottom lip between my teeth. I know this new hobby of his makes him happy, but I can’t lie and say I don’t hate the fact that he’s enjoying getting hurt. The only thing that comforts me is that he’s training with a bunch of other athletes. I don’t know why he chose fighting instead of, I don’t know, crocheting or something, but if he’s doing it safely, I suppose I can’t say shit.

I walk my fingers up his neck until they’re hovering over his lips. As I look up at him through my lashes, I hope I’m not crying. Fuck, I’m such a baby. “So, no more gym this week, right?”

He nods. “I don’t have to. Why?”

“I told you. I miss you,” I whisper, knowing my vulnerability is safe with him. “I need you, Cassy. I don’t like being apart.”

It’s like it physically hurts. I want to spend all my time with him. When he’s not around, everything is just a bit dimmer. I crave his company like a drug, itching for more, reeling when it’s gone, blissful after a hit.

“Aw, sunshine,” he coos, placing his lips right beside my ear. “I’ll cut back a bit. How about you and I watch a movie tonight after work and just hang out?”

I brighten at that. “Please?”

“Of course.” He pulls back so he can smile.

“Oh, yes! Let’s do that! That sounds perfect!”

“Great,” he says softly. “It’s a plan. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.”

I wave away his concern, even though it’s maybe a touch true. I’m touch-starved for him. Needy for the comfort he provides. Still, I shake my head as I pucker my lips. “Kiss it better, Cassy.”

He chuckles right before his lips land on mine. So soft. So smooth. He tastes like something spicy. Cinnamon, like the gum he likes to chew. I run my tongue across his bottom lip until he groans and grind myself against him.

Perfect. It’s just so nice.

“I love you so much,” I mumble against his lips. “Forever.”

He kisses my forehead. “And I love you always.”

He’s reluctant to set me down, but he does, because we both have a lot of work. I hold his hand as he walks me to the bar, and lean in for another quick kiss before he heads off to the stage. And I’m reminded that I live the perfect life.

Everything is just so wonderful with him.